


I Write Happiness with Your Name

by jetblacklilac



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Happy Ending, Modern AU, a bunch of letters, kind of sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-04-08 10:45:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14103657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jetblacklilac/pseuds/jetblacklilac
Summary: It has been a year since they broke up. Hard as it is to move on from an intensely devoted relationship, it's even harder to forget his ex when he finds a mysterious box filled with Sansa's letters addressed to him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i took my time with this fic and comments of any kind would be dearly appreciated !!

“Where is it?” Jon muttered to himself as he blindly swipes his arm underneath his bed, trying to find his other sneaker. He’s certain it’s somewhere under the bed since his shoes always somehow grow limb and crawl over there. He just wants to go jogging in the park for an afternoon without having to jog with only one shoe. When he stretched until his shoulder tapped the wood of his bed, he felt the texture of the laces and pulled at it.

What he got was more than his shoe though, there was a worn out beige box that came along the shoe. He sat on the floor, curious about the mysterious object. He flips the lid and saw only a bunch of envelopes with his name written on it and one of them numbered as “1” at the upper right corner. Some were worn out in the drawl of time but the others were crisp and retained the pristine white colour.

 “What the…” He wondered as he took the one at the very bottom. It felt like unwrapping an unexpected gift on a random day when the folded pages slipped out and onto his palm.

_Dear Jon Snow,_

_Okay, this feels extremely awkward but it soothes me to know that you’ll never read this. And if you ever do, God, the mortification would be ineffable. Anyways, I’m writing this letter to you because it’s the only way to precisely shape how I feel about you. You can’t exactly know how I feel for you because we’re only bounded by our friends and the only times you talk to me is to inquire on where they are. And it’d be profoundly awkward for you to know that someone like me is infatuated with you._

_How exactly do I feel? My heart dances at your voice with each delighted skip in beats but thumps more whenever you do something so adorable like laugh or I am blessed with the sight of your dimpled cheeks. The only mathematical problem I’m willing to solve for is to find the slope of your smile. And the formula is lame ass jokes from our friends that cause your mouth to curve and your laughs are my favourite shortest songs that I have ever heard._

_This is how I feel about you. Not that you’d ever know._

_Yours,_

_Your admirer_

His hands shook with tremor as he continued to stare at the letter. His eyes rove over the curves and loops of her words written in ardent admiration of him. Jon didn’t even _know_ this is how intensely she felt for him even before they formally talked. He heard the hushed whispers from Margaery and Jeyne that she liked him but at that time, it was hard to digest. It seems that she’s already so in love with him and he didn’t even know it. 

_“It’s been what a year? We need to lock them in a closet, I say!” Margaery, he recognizes, acknowledges some common knowledge with a tacked sigh. One turn at the corner and he’d be standing in front of Margaery and her companion. He didn’t know why he’s eavesdropping but the way her voice is comically stressed sparked interest in him._

_Since he couldn’t interrupt this enigmatic conversation, he leans on the red bricked wall of the university café. He crossed his arms and lowered his head, intently listening. If any of his other friends sawhim, he wouldn’t know what sort of excuse he'd formulate on the spot._

_“We should! The tension is near suffocating.” Arya agrees with a laugh._

_Who are they talking about? Jon wonders as he craned his neck and could see the hem of Margaery’s sundress fluttering in the afternoon breeze._

_“But, we both know Sansa would dig a hole to escape confrontation. Every time I tell her Jon is absolutely taken by you, she says the usual response.” Arya whines with a slight huff. Jon could imagine the tiny brunette with her arms crossed and a pout on her mouth._

_“You’re only saying that because you’re my friends!” They chanted in unison with giggles trailing after their sentence._

_The women are unknown how the weight of their revelation bore down on Jon’s shoulders. Sansa likes me? He echoed in his thoughts with shock. Sansa has been latently reciprocating these feelings?_

It’s been about a year since they broke up; a reason that flees his mind as he ripped open the second envelope and reads it with ardor. He lines his back against the side of the bed, stretches his legs, and reads her letter.

_Dear Jon Snow,_

_You’re art, you know? You’re what artists of the renaissance would dedicate museums to. And just like art, touching you would be an offense because I’d ruin your colours and the scene you’re in. If I could display my past infatuations, they’re framed in gold and also have an artistic appeal on their physiques. They are walking images of what artists from the past have envisioned with aesthetic settings, sunlight in their hair and smiles._

_But you, oh you’re a different form of art, far from the conventional angelic assumption, soft lightings and pink flushed cheeks with romantic themes. No, you’re the kind of painting people don’t understand at first glance or several at that. You’re complication, layers and a mess of combination of strokes. I realize how this is more enthralling than the pastel canvases and beautiful men with white lies hidden in their rose pink mouths._

_It’s been a few months since I’ve written the letter and nothing has changed. You sit on your throne that dominates all my thoughts day by day. You rule over my heart and I don’t have any objections to this decree. What frightens me is how effortless you’ve gotten my devotion. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this much for someone before. And I try to distance myself from you but the space between is only being filled by these emotions that flow in my blood. I can’t even look at you without feeling warmth spreading in my chest._

_Margaery constantly talks about everyone’s love life; even yours. (She probably knows the secrets of the universe.) She told us that you’re dating girls with gleaming eyes with flowing hair. It probably shouldn’t be the catalyst in gripping my heart with an icy hold that I nearly stopped breathing. I shouldn’t be crying right now as I scribble down this petty feelings that ache and pound on my hurting heart. But, I do. I know you’d be with people that have sunshine in their smiles and beauty people drop on their knees for. I know that. But, I still venture on this abyss longing. I don’t know when it will end. I’m not sure if this will ever stop._

_The next time we hung out by the quad, laughing and horsing around, I noticed your eyes shined with a different kind of joy and you’re more relaxed. Could it be her? She has the honour of making you this jovial then who am I to be sad? I’m standing before a one way mirror, witnessing you be happy with someone else. You don’t have to know me or even acknowledge me because in any way that you’re happy, I’ll be happy for you too._

_Yours,_

_Your Admirer_

Jon doesn’t even remember the girl Sansa wrote about. Even with the month and year dated above, he can’t recall anyone else he had ever loved besides her. He tilts his head and closed his eyes, letting this sudden avalanche of information slowly settle in his mind. 

It came upon him just how alone he has been feeling. Without her in his apartment, everything is dead silent, and the air has dropped cold with lack of warmth that radiates from her. When she used to live with him, the sun couldn’t outshine the way she innately glows with joy and her smile is bright enough to melt a block of ice. She used to randomly dance to songs on her phone and sing in an intentionally horrid voice and cling on him, making him break his impassive façade to laugh at her antics.

Every other night, they would take turns in deciding what movie they should watch. Genres of it didn’t matter because at the end of each movie night, they’d cuddle on the sofa, softly snoring, and Jon basks in her shallow breathings and in the actuality that Sansa is quietly snoring into the curve of his neck.

Jon now realizes the comfort and glow his apartment had all came from Sansa. And when she left, she took all the warmness and serenity with her. He thought his heart is achingly heavy before reading her letters, but he could now feel it hanging by its veins, being weighed down by the emotions flooding in it. He opened the third letter with a shaky breath.

_Dear Jon Snow,_

_I recently checked various astronomy websites to see if the planets are aligned today. And though they didn’t announce that, it feels like it because you actually talked to me! You, the object of my affections have said words that aren’t asking where Robb and the others are. You began small talk with me. I won’t let this light a flame. You’re only in the dorm because Robb kicked you out to spend time with his girlfriend. I had half the mind to continue my movie marathon in my room and let you study on the couch. But, I saw that you were studying Chemistry and I decided to help you understanding the concepts and formulas._

_Before I knew it, you kept on laughing at my poorly crafted jokes in order for you to understand the complex theories and laws of Chemistry. I am only thankful the dim lights obscured my burning cheeks and the adored smile that twists my mouth. The clock above the television displayed that it was two in the morning. How odd we didn’t feel time slipping past our fingers?_

_Eventually, you understood everything and I’m need in to see the ending of this movie. In reality, I just need to distance myself from you. My heart is encased in a tightly sealed jar so none of the fireworks you spark in my veins or the butterflies that tickle my insides can infect it with fantasies that can’t ever happen. It’s been a year of loving you in secret._

_You liked the movie I was watching and requested you join me. You ask as though I can deny you anything. So, we both commented and reacted to it. Looking back, it’s now my favourite movie of all time. Yes, it’s been months since you’ve dated anyone but I don’t let this quiet night light a fuse into the powder keg of a jar in my chest._

_Yours,_

_Your admirer_

Sansa watched Ant Man when Jon knocked on her door. He recalls how he turned to face her and he’s struck by the silvery light that washed on her face. The shadows accentuate the slope of her nose, her soft lips like flowery petals, and the point of her chin. Even now, five years in loving her, he couldn’t put words into how that shot a feeling of deep appreciation in seeing a beauty like her. Thunder cracked in his veins as he witnessed a smile exceedingly gleaming his mind blanked out for a moment or two.

_This isn’t healthy,_ Jon protested as he reached for the next letter. His friends have been adamant for him to move on from Sansa. If he had vacant time, he’d scroll through the pictures he took of Sansa and smiling at how the shots are random; her talking to the group, her dancing wearing only his shirt, her underneath the moon light and so much more shots that have pieces of his heart in it. He could hear her giggle when he shows it to her. She would blush at how there are so many pictures of her. And still, he hasn’t deleted a single one.

This could possibly be the worst time in finding these letters. Why did he only scavenge the space under his bed a year after their breakup? Not that he’s moving on but now, he’s sinking back into the love that tore the relationship apart.

_Dear Jon Snow,_

_There are infinite of reasons that could be the answer to why you asked me out. I mean, in all the life times we must’ve gone through, it is this one I’m blessed in being granted a night out with you. Oh the collective hours we spent together in the movie hours are constantly replaying in my head. There are two things that have come out of this; one is that I get to watch the latest Marvel movie and second I spent it with you. I could hardly recall the details of the movie when you’re sitting beside me with your arm indiscreetly draped on my shoulders with the translucent excuse of keeping me warm._

_Even if I adore you so much, I didn’t interpret these actions as things done of out romantic purposes. We’re mutually bounded by our friends so maybe you were only watching out for my health as I often am sensitive to cold places. I did not dare react to your glances at me whenever I laugh or at random times during the movie. I didn’t even want to divulge the reason why we’re both here when I announced it to my friends. Oh, I could still hear their yells of triumph that the café staffs nearly kicked us out. Maybe you just want a movie buddy to see the movie with. Maybe all of your friends are occupied so you had no choice but me since I rarely have anything social in my itinerary that didn’t involve our small circle of friends. Reasons (or excuses) are the only things holding me back from submerging myself in a sea of open and foolish possibilities._

_When you walked me back to the dorm, I practiced great restraint in not allowing myself in feeling fonder for you than I already am. But, the discipline melted away when your fingers slowly but surely interlaces with mine and the gradual closeness we pulled together assured me that there could be an inkling of chance you could like me. Not in any way that I’m smitten with you but a step away the line of friendship could satisfy my heart until our next life time._

_But it seems that the universe felt magnanimous with me because you asked for us to go on a date again; that you actually enjoyed spending time with only me. I don’t know what I did in the past to be rewarded such richly but I’ll indulge in this for as long as I can._

                                                                                                                                                                _Yours,_

_Your Admirer_

A dry chuckle escaped his lips and a bitter smile twisted his mouth.  By being reintroduced to their first date, he could basically feel her soft hand intertwined with his. He recalls it was one of those nights silence isn’t awkward or filled with unspoken words. The first date with Sansa felt like feeling everything around his life is starting to make sense. All planets in this system aligned in favour of this date. He felt the universe on his hand as she ambles next to him and he laughed at how her cheeks were blazed in the duration of their walk back to the university.

Jon could remember the exact time the idea of being with her could be stretched into infinities. It’s when she stood on the doorway, stuttering over how she enjoyed the night and how she would love to go on a second date with him. If she smiles like that to him every single day since then, he’d be the most contented man on Earth. And for a while, his wish is granted daily until one day they went their own ways.

“Last one.” Jon vows, half-heartedly as he opens the next letter.

_Dear Jon Snow,_

_I’m your girlfriend. Writing down the word and staring at it in lines of dark ink makes it somehow realer than saying the words out loud to answer your question. After months of going on dates and our friends’ constant taunts of how sweet we seem to act, I finally have you as my own. The next few days flew by in a breeze because I’m constantly reminded that we’re now together._

_We’ve been dating for two whole months now, sixty one days of being your girl. I don’t think there are any sweeter words than that in the English language. My heart doesn’t tire from soaring whenever I spot you in the crowd of students. Each time I gaze at you, it feels like watching the breath-taking view of a sunset for the very first time. A wave of awe crashes against my ribs whenever you do loving things for me. Or, whenever we hold hands or cuddle, my heart is fattened with affections for you. When we’re with our friends, your knuckles would brush against mine in a discreet action of longing. My response would be a river of red that flows from my cheeks to my neck and in an instant; our friends would notice this and endlessly tease us._

_Everything is going great. And that’s the ice impaling me right now, as I’m on my bed, writing this letter. The moments with you are too perfect for someone like me to cherish. I’ve never been so forward about how I feel because saying these words out in the open could make it real, you know? Well you don’t. My target audience is this paper. But, there’s this anxiety hovering in the back of my mind. I try to ignore the dark thoughts and bask in your caring acts but this pushed back insecurity tingles and forces itself to be known more when I’m with you. I wonder now, secretly, why you’re with me. I’ve seen your pasts and they’re beauties. Comparing me to them would be foolish but I’m a fool for you._

_And I know you were once a fool for them._

_Yours,_

_Your girlfriend_


	2. I'd Write a Book about Your Sweet Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon opens more letters and reopens wounds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you guys like this oh and btw that poem sansa wrote for jon is my own poem.

Jon furrowed his brows in bewilderment. He knew that Sansa had troubles in being expressive. In fact, he can’t count the numerous occasions she acted immensely apprehensive in talking about her feelings in certain situations. He has to draw in great strengths and patience in order to hear even a sentence of her feelings. But he has never heard anything of Sansa being insecure because of the people he used to date.

He clenched his jaw. This is exactly why they broke up. There’s a constant tug of war between them in communicating. The rope that separates him from her burns his palms but he continued this torment because he loves her. And he knew that Sansa loves him to. Perhaps this could be his reason for he kept on attempting to tear down the thick walls that have barricaded Sansa from him.  And he tried to let her open up like drawing out a sea creature out of its shell because as much as their external was dazzling, he needed to see the mess that was his girlfriend.

“She’s not your girlfriend anymore, Snow.” He breathed. He doesn’t know what to do with all these memories easing back in the forefront of his mind when he has been trying in forgetting her. Determined to be temporarily distracted, he wore the other shoe and walked out of his apartment with the intent of running until he can’t feel his legs anymore or his knees shake if he takes a step.

For the rest of the day, he could barely lift a finger. His whole body hummed with pain because he spent at least two hours running around the park and to some extent a couple of blocks away from it. Every inhale or exhale of air sends a wave of anguish in his tormented muscles, worsening his condition by the second. It was a plan not thoroughly debated on because of the swirl of frustration that swelled in his chest caused him to act irrationally.

The television had nothing that interested him and his movie selections remained to be what Sansa would’ve liked. And being tormented by her presence even if she’s not here is quite enough for today. He decides to sleep on the couch to not further torture his body in walking to his bedroom.

Morning that came after the night alerted him that he has to go to work. So, after washing up and dressing up, he rushes out the door. Although he’s invested in the work tasked on him, his mind constantly drifts back to the box of still unread letters that are waiting to be read. With that enticing idea, he waits on the hour that slips by and this means that he’s closer to uncovering more of Sansa’s reluctance.

When he arrived at his apartment, he drops his satchel bag on the bedroom floor and sets the box on the bed as he sat at the edge of it. He opens the fourth letter with anticipation and hesitance at par with each other.

_Dean Jon Snow,_

_In a previous letter I have mentioned painters could be inspired by you. Well, that doesn’t restrict to self-proclaimed poets; meaning moi. What I write is purely to attempt in describing what stirs in my heart. I wrote you a poem during Lit class out of utter boredom and what else can I do but think of you? After I have strung along stanzas and in a sense wrote a poem, I knew that I must show it to my inspiration for it. And when you did, I swear I have never seen someone’s face lit up in the way that yours did. Your eyes shined with awe, your mouth slackened out of flabbergast. And you stared at it for solid two minutes as you repeatedly reread it and kept on asking if I’m really sure I wrote it for you._

_Rest assured, every word that’s on the paper is dedicated to you, my love. Embarrassingly enough, I have memorized the poem and I can recite it by heart since that’s where the poem came from._

_I am so in love with you_

_That I will never recover from the fall_

_Or will I ever want to_

_As if this is fate’s call_

_I closed my eyes_

_And a wishing star whizzed by_

_Knowing that even if this will be my demise_

_I wished that you feel the same as I_

_Yours,_

_Your girlfriend_

Snow did recall the afternoon that Sansa wrote a poem for him. It was one of the most romantic things anyone has done for him. It was when they were gathering at the end of the day to study at a café when she slid a piece of paper to him as the others study. Her description of his reaction was precisely accurate on how he felt. He remembers looking at her and her face had the most adorable face of fondness that until now he hasn’t found anyone to ever beat her on that. He knows, deep in his bones, no one can ever compare or beat Sansa for the domination of his very being.

He used to sing this poem to himself whenever he’s alone or when he studies. Oh, the beam on Sansa’s face when she heard this is unforgettable as she approached him with a timid kiss on the mouth. She sings with him, her voice so lulling and soft that she only joins him to sing when they’re in bed or cuddling. And her cheek is pressed against his chest as the duet goes on and he likes to think that she’s singing to his heart.

He opens the fifth letter.

_Dear Jon Snow,_

_As the months go on, you’re continually devoted to me in ways I dared not to imagine. You’re so sweet to me and oh so loving to someone like me. Any other person would be frolicking in a garden and singing silly love songs. They would be so grateful for having this kind of person in their lives and to be continually blessed because of them. In a sense, I too feel contented with your companion and love._

_But this is also why the dark cloud is beginning to conquer most of the blue skies of you. We’re happy now yet nothing good ever lasts, the good die young as they say. And this pestering thought has wormed itself into my mind and planted a seed of bad thoughts. I hate to think about it but at times, I wait the news from my friends that you’re talking with some other girl or they saw you hanging out with someone else who isn’t us. I know this is so wrong yet I can’t help myself._

_From the very beginning it is established that I don’t deserve you and though I have never addressed them to anyone else, it feels like a real scenario to me. It isn’t that I don’t trust you because I do, too much at that. Maybe my insecurity is making me think this way. If you won’t cheat on me then maybe I’m just too anxious because this relationship is so picturesque like a painting that garners the audience’s breaths whenever they see it._

_And I love you. This love is bigger than my heart it has conquered my mind. This is what worries me; how profound my love is for you. What if I love you too much? Don’t people shrink at how excessive one’s love is? Maybe I’m suffocating you with my presence._

_My one great fear is saying these words to you. I don’t know what your reaction could be. Disgust? Uneasiness? Fear has me the throat on this. It’s almost like I’m so petrified of the depth my feelings are for you. And if I do say this, try to let you swim in my thoughts, I’m afraid right after you sink into its waves; you’d want a towel to dry off all of my love that clung to you in this descent._

_Yours,_

_Your Girlfriend_

Jon shot out of the bed, heavily breathing, and his thoughts scatter at the letter on his hands.  After reading the first letter, he doesn’t know what to expect in the other letters that are piled up in the box. Anger initially rose as he read the last sentence. How dare she keep all this to herself and not even talk about it to him? They were in a relationship for Christ’s sakes. He just can’t understand why she has always been uncomfortable in expressing herself. And what makes this even more infuriating is she’d rather have a one way communication with pieces of paper.

 _Maybe she should just date a paper,_ Jon grumbled in his thoughts. The letter contains Sansa’s deepest insecurities. Her thoughts, now written in ink, he realizes what he would’ve done anything to know; which is anything, he would move mountains and cross oceans for her happiness. If he had known this when they were still together then maybe he and Sansa would be cuddling and watching some other Marvel movie.

 _Did she ever trust me?_ He wondered and really, he shouldn’t have because he doesn’t even know how to answer that. The moments after reading her letters he’s learning so much but the weight of his questions tips the scale over to the side where he isn’t on.

He merely stares at the envelope on his palm, wondering if he should even open it up because so far her words have ripped a hole in his chest. Hopefully, the sixth letter sheds some light on his ex’s dark thoughts.

_Dear Jon Snow,_

  _Everything is my fault, isn’t it? I’m so damn reluctant in letting you know how I feel. You, being a kind soul, keep on trying to reach out to my shaking hands. No matter the times I keep on pleading at you that this has never been easy for me. Vulnerability is more terrifying than spiders and you know that is a huge comparison because I almost always cry whenever I see an eight legged devil. Only with this fear, it creeps and crawls and has an aim to my heart._

_You have the purest intentions of lending me your shoulder to cry on and I love you for this. But, how long can you keep on comforting me? How long will I have your love and warmth? These questions have shaken me to the core whenever I see you. Happiness has fled my system and has been replaced with dread. How long will you stay by my side?_

_Margaery says I’m getting stressed with work and I’m paranoid because everything is settling down at the bottom of the glass quite collectively. Arya says it’s because our relationship is turning into a more serious one; the rare story that survives college and thrives in the adult world. Gilly thinks that I have commitment issues._

_And I think they’re all right. Everything is perfect with you. There will come a time when your eyes won’t glint like stars when you see me. Or maybe our actions will slide more impassively the more time we spend with each other. The possibilities can drown me in doubt._

_And I know it’s so unfair that I can’t voice this out to you and you always try and try to help me. I don’t have the slightest idea on how to do this, to let someone else be burdened with how I think. How your affections for me are so endearing yet a voice in my head whispers; what if this is the last time he will genuinely enjoy holding my hand?_

_I guess what I’m trying to say is that I truly believe in the Law of Entropy; nothing can last forever. And this is science so it’s true. I’m so scared that you’ll fall out of love when I can’t even see the edge of the cliff because you make me feel like I can fly._

_Yours_

_Your girlfriend_

Jon hurriedly opens the next one out of desperation, the intrigue rushes through him and he unfolds the next one.

 

_Dean Jon Snow,_

_Margaery, Arya, and Gilly are the only people who know this. And this edition of my journal will be the only inanimate object to know what I have done in the past weeks. I’ve attended therapy. My psychiatrist suggested that I must have sessions at least twice a week. In the first meeting, it was very nerve wracking. I mean I can’t even talk to you what more to a stranger? But, at the end of the session, the knot loosened around my heart._

_Of course, my friends wanted to know the details of the weekly visits there and I swore them to not breathe a word to the guys and to you. Yes, this may seem selfish, harsh, or it could be conveyed that I don’t trust you. None of these speculations are true. Dr. Luwin and I discussed why I’m so hesitant in opening the door to you and it could be because I still have difficulty in acknowledging that we’re still together. I’ve always in a relationship that doesn’t flourish in the best ways and to have the kind of love we do, my love this is downright terrifying for me._

_My mind set has immensely changed after going through roughened and horrible pasts of mine For instance, Joffrey, his cruel and reckless actions towards me have carved bruises I cannot see anymore but I still feel them even when I’m with you. Unfortunately, I brought this along in our relationship and this why I struggle so much. I can’t understand why you need to know how I feel. It is an enigma to me why my opinions or emotions matter to you._

_Along with that, I’m severely depressed. Dr Luwin even prescribed medication for me whenever I feel crestfallen. And these are the tic tacs that you keep on seeing me eat. There’s also an entirely logical reason to why I haven’t told you. I’m actually doing this for you. I’m trying to be a better person for you. My motivation to go to his office is I’m a step closer to being the person you deserve to be with._

_I still love you, my love. And I pity you that this love is returned. I don’t deserve you. I never have and yet you keep on staying and keep on holding my hand and my heart._

_Yours,_

_Your Girlfriend_

Jon closes the door to the apartment and sees Sansa, sprawled on the couch and pours two white pills on her palm.  He smiles when her eyes sparkle at the sight of him as he lifts her legs and places them on his thighs. “Love, you’ve got to take it easy on the tic tacs. You’ve been eating that for a month now.” He gently chastises as his hands rub abstract shapes on her calves.

The redhead eases a plush pillow on her neck and grips the container nonetheless. “I need it, honey.” She answers and her tone dips in something deeper.

He takes in her messy hair, dark circles underneath her eyes and the colour of her eyes are somehow paler. The shirt she stole from his drawer seems looser than he recalls. “Baby, you alright? You’re looking more stressed than usual.” He observes. His eyebrows knit in concern and continue on running his hands down her feet.

Sansa swings her legs to the side and scoots until she’s at his side. She kisses him on the mouth and cups his cheek with one hand. “I’m fine, honey. Though, could you get me the apple juice in the fridge? The new heels my mother bought have injured my pretty feet.” She pouts so adorably that Jon knows he can’t deny her anything.

“Sure thing and we need to buy you a cream for your feet.” Jon gently chastises as he stands and casts one last look of adoration to his girlfriend.

“Maybe tell my mom to love me less!” She shouts as he has entered the kitchen.

He merely rolls his eyes at her words.

Jon stared at the letter, his hands quaking, and the corner of his eyes stung. When he blinks, a couple of tears slid down his cheeks and splashed against the paper he tightly held on to. A shallow feeling moved against his chest like there was a hurricane swirling in his ribs. Maybe there was. She went to therapy for him? She had a secret plan in divulging in her fears, to understand them, and be a better person for him? It sounds just like her to do this kind of thing.

He does recall the instances wherein she would keep on eating from a tic tac container. He never really commented on it or did he mind it. But now, he felt a pulse of fear in losing count on just how many times he’s seen her have her medication.

Why did he discover this only now? He hasn’t heard anything of her since she moved out. His friends avoid that very topic and somehow he could tell a question concerning her is always at the tip of their tongues. They know just a mention of her name could drain out all the forced happiness that he pushes forward just to enjoy their company after work. He never had the courage to ask the ladies because he knows they’d report it to Sansa.

He doesn’t even know how she’s doing. Another set of wave washed over his thoughts. She has been attending therapy. Did she get better? Is she okay right now? Is she relapsing? He had half the mind to call one of Sansa's friends to demand an answer to even one of his questions.

Checking the clock on the drawer, he didn’t even feel the time slip away. _Is it really nine pm?_ His room is darkened and the only light is the faint silver blanket on the floor. He enters the kitchen and after he grabs the nearest junk food and feasts on it as he vacantly stares at the television. How can he concentrate from what he has been learning in the past couple of days?

Later, as he lay on bed, his attention trained on the ceiling above him, his mind couldn’t let him sleep. His thoughts kept on overlapping each other. He didn’t read the next letter since the last one has an abundance of insight that he has yet accepted.


	3. All the Ink in the World Can't Write Down my Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The unanswered questions weigh down his pockets that he has to unload them tot he very person he has been trying to avoid for over a year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you guys liked this ride of emotions

The following day, he goes through his usual work without any sleep. His friends surely have noticed because throughout the day, he felt their burning gazes of inquiry. Yet, he ignored their unspoken concern and ventured on arranging his documents for his deposition. What can he even say? The reality and past are swirling in his mind too often he’s getting puzzled on which is real or a mere memory.

“Hey, Snow…” Robb greeted by the door of his office. He leans on the door way and smiled at him, not the happy kind but the one that is twisted out of concern. Theon and Sam stood behind the eldest Stark and waved at him.

“What’s up?” Jon asks in feigned nonchalance and his hands rest on the thick papers on his desk. He knows why they’re crowding at the entrance of his office but he refuses to admit it.

“Do you want to join us for a night to drink?” Theon questions with an impassive voice. Of course he’d be the one to ask that question; an invitation to forget their surroundings as the booze flows bottomless in their glasses.

“Yeah, it’s been a long time since Gilly lets this rascal out.” Robb supplies with a short laugh and pats Sam on the shoulder.

If he hadn’t found Sansa’s letters, he would’ve jumped at a chance for distraction. But now, there isn’t an ounce of energy for him to go out and get drunk. “I’m good. Next week is my deposition and I have to get ready.” He gently told off with a quick smile.

They frown in response.

“Come on, Snow, it’s just for tonight. I made Gilly promise she wouldn’t lock me out of the flat when I return drunk. Miraculously, she agreed.” Sam continues on.

“You guys have fun.” He replied. Guilt began to bubble low in his gut but he can’t just be the grey cloud in the bar when they talk and laugh.

Fortunately, they left. Hours later and Jon decided that enough of distracting himself; he has to read the last letter. Now, he finds himself on his bed, the lamp illuminating the room, and the last letter on his hands.

He slid it out of the envelope and opened it.

_My Dearest,_

_I’ve always known that I’ve never deserved you. It’s been my consistent thought throughout the years of being with you. It’s like standing in front of a running train and you have the assumption of what the pain would feel like. When collision happens, you’re like yes this is exactly how I’d thought it would be. And yet, I conscientiously overlooked this obviousness for nights of being by your side. I chose this to see the love in your eyes shine before it’s replaced by the emptiness that I returned to you instead of my honest words._

_But, the timing is really unexpected. For months, I have been encouraged by Dr Luwin to reveal that I’m in therapy to you but I hesitate because we’re both busy with work and I didn’t want you to worry more. He said a secret’s value increases each day it isn’t exposed. And I guess he’s right. So, arriving at our apartment, I readied myself in telling you. I want to feel the release of endorphins at the moment when we communicate rightly for once. What I didn’t know is you had an entirely different approach on this night._

_You’re tired of this, of being with me. I know this relationship is draining the both of us because we’re always giving love and my issues have created tensions between us. As I sat there, listening to you explain in a gentle voice that we should breakup, I felt so damn foolish. Just when I was starting to believe that maybe I do deserve this person with such light in them, they realize their hands are exhausted from holding slippery hands. I was about to reveal a personal matter and you, albeit unintentionally, return it with a separation. At the end of our talk, we were both crying. You cried because of what’s happening right in front of you. But, I wept for how my hope is shattered by the very same person who had the audacity to make it soar. I’m not mad though. I understand that you want someone who doesn’t shrink from heart felt talks because they fear the intensity of it. You want someone who doesn’t make love feel so heavy and suffocating._

_In a sense, I’m glad you’re released from me. You get to explore the world with so many brilliant people ready to love you and show love in ways that I never could. I still have that selfless kind of love that conquered my heart when we were college sophomores. If you’re happy, I’m happy. Even if you bring all my love and faith with you and pour it on someone else, so be it._

_Until the next life time, I guess._

_I need to see her,_ Jon frantically concluded after rereading the letter for what felt like the fiftieth time. He can’t ignore these letters anymore or pretend it doesn’t affect him because he hasn’t gotten a good night’s sleep because of this.

Jon stood up and stuffed the letter in its envelope then placed it in the box. He snatched his bag from the floor and slid the box in then he ran out of his apartment to catch a cab. He couldn’t stop tapping his fingers on his knees or his foot bouncing at the immense worry that’s boiling to an unbearable level now.

After tipping the driver, he runs into the complex and into the elevator. When it stops at the floor, he sprints to the number that he knows too well. He pounded on the door until there was a yell for him to stop it.

“Jon, what on Earth are you doing here at this time of night?” Gilly scolds as she widens the door for him to enter. In the living room, he could see the flashing light of the television and their months old baby, Sam, in his crib.

“Sam and the others aren’t here. They’re out at some pub.” Gilly informed with furrowed brows.

He composed himself after letting his lungs grasp as much air as it could. “Where does Sansa live?” He breathed out as he leaned against the wall, trying to catch his breaths.

The brunette stiffened, eyes widening, and her hands fisted on the beige over sized shirt she is wearing.

“Why?” Gilly asks in worry.

He patted his bag. “I know about the letters.” He answered. He gave her time to drink in what he said and took in the sight of her shocked expressions and her sharp gasp of realization. But she remained assessing him and had hesitance in their stance. “Please, I need to talk to her.” He pleaded and if she'd demand him to kneel, he would.

Gilly backed away a few steps and retrieved a pad and pen on the table nearest to them. The brunette scribbled down a few lines and handed it to him.

“You both needed closure anyways.” Gilly admits.

Jon stares at the paper, realizing that he’s about to see Sansa one more time. With that thought, he holds the paper like a sacred ornament.

She makes shooing motions and wished him good luck.

The drive to Sansa’s new apartment took twenty minutes and it’s nearly midnight. He pays the driver and races off to the elevator inside the lobby. 29B is the apartment she’s in and now he stared at it for a minute, arranging his thoughts and feelings a she’s about to meet her once again. His hand makes a sufficiently loud knock twice then it flies to grip the sling of his bag tightly.

The cream door closes in and there, dressed in her flannels, is Sansa. She looked beautiful as he remembers. Her hair, red and glinting with the lights, appeared softer and such a temptation to run his fingers through. Everything about Sansa hasn't changed and his chest constricts, shrinks in size at the thought of the prolonged absence of her in his life. Her mouth gapes at the sight of him. “Jo-Jon? What are you doing here?” Oh, he missed the caress of her soft voice.

“May I come in?” He asks and it’s a surprise that she lets him.

The apartment was very neat with white to violet furnishing. It had the precise personality as its owner. There were organized and important looking documents on the coffee table, pens of different colours lined up near a brown envelope, and her television displayed no shows or news.

“Please, sit down.” Sansa suggests and gestures to the wide sofa that had pale cushions on it.

He acquiesces and sits at the middle of it. He notes that she sat at the very end of the sofa. The very reason of his visit now sat between them as he took it out of his bag. “I’m here to return this.” He explains.

Sansa’s spine stiffened greatly as she stared at it. She held it as though exerting more effort could be lethal to her hands and she placed it on the coffee table. “Did you read a letter there?” She inquires; some curiosity but most are nerves.

“No.” She indiscreetly relaxes. “I’ve read all of them.” Jon answers. “Why didn’t you tell me you went to therapy?” He questioned in what he imagined was a pained voice. Because that’s what he feels, his hands want to hold on to this woman who flies away at the sight of a soften look from him. He wants to bring his arms around her and never let go because the first time they were released, he has never felt emptier in his life.

“The letters explain it.” Sansa lowly answers and her eyes fall to the ground.

Oh no, if she thinks they’re going to fall back on how they used to talk, she’s dead wrong. Laurens scooted closer until their thighs brushed and this caught her attention. “You shouldn’t have agreed in the breakup, baby. If you told me you were attending therapy, I would’ve stayed-“

“-Out of pity.” She shakily intervenes. She inches her chin higher for him to see that her dark eyes are swimming in tears. “You would stay because your moral compass would never let you breakup with someone who’s seeing a therapist.” She whispered and it hurt how sure she sounded.

“Or, I love you. I would’ve supported you in any way that I can because you know, I love you so much.” Jon counters with conviction to his own words. “All the things you wrote down are more than what you’ve told me when we were together. Did you ever trust me?” He didn’t dare to blink just in case he would miss a movement she would do.

“Of course I trust you. Being with you and loving you are vastly different things and it’s the daunting reality I’ve lived in for years. It gave me vertigo on how I used to stare at you every five seconds to you spooning me in our own apartment.” She confessed her voice small like how a child confesses what wrong thing they did. But this isn’t wrong in any way.

This gave Jon a rush because she’s finally opening up to him in ways that she hasn’t been able to in years. He leans on the sofa and smiles, encouraging her to talk more and let him hear her soft voice over and over again.

“I, I didn’t want to tell you then because you had the initial intent to break up with me. I’ve always thought it was possible but for it to flash before my eyes? It’s like having a spider thrown at my face.” She continues but she says all these things to her fidgeting hands. So, he eased them apart and held them, swiping his thumb on her soft skin. “I don’t ever want to experience the shock of hearing that you want to breakup with me again. Even if it tore me apart, I let you get the freedom you deserve. Because if I tell you and you’d stay, later down the road you’d say those words again and I can only bear to hear it once.”

Jon nods. After being on days of discovering and in depth analysis of the letters, he could feel the fear in her words and how frightened she is for her love for him. Lucky for her, he’s enamoured for her as much as she is for him.

“Has it ever occurred to you that I don’t deserve you?” Jon hums as he beholds the sight of Sansa and the unfurling heat on her cheeks; he definitely missed doing everything that could make her blush.

“What?” Sansa questions bewildered and his words caused her to return his stare.

He smiles at her reaction. “At times, I also think that I don’t deserve you. You’re so perfect, you know? Your faults only make you more humane and so unfairly perfect to me.” He whispers. Her face brightened at his words and it’s the kind that creates crinkles beside her eyes. “I know I’m such a romantic.” He teased with a chuckle.

She relaxes on the sofa and swipes her thumb on his skin. The loose circles she’s drawing on his seeps comfort in his veins. “Dr Luwin will be pleased to hear this. I’m giving you closure and the honest talk that I didn’t give you when we dated.” Sansa put forth the very core of their problem.

His mouth twists in fondness when she yawns and she blushes when she noted that he’s still staring at her like the lovesick fool he is. “I’m sorry I woke you up.” He murmurs. They were so close, he agonized. Just one more movement and he could have her in his arms. He could smell her unique perfume and gladly allow it to wash through his senses in the sweetest caress.

“No you weren’t. I was just finishing up this case and…” Sansa yawns again and this time her eyelashes flutter. And she leans her head on the sofa; exposing the column of her neck to him.

He traces his knuckles down her cheek and delights in the sleepy smile on her face. “Can I drive you to your therapy sessions?” He requests. He figured it’s some repay for the months she’s been going there alone.

Sansa sits up at his request. “You’d do that?” She asked, puzzled.

This makes Jon think that until now, she doesn’t understand he would do anything for her and maybe their love is equally deep for each other. “Yes. I’ll do anything to support you. Maybe after the session, we’ll get ice cream yeah?” He proposed and his mouth widened at her giggle. He could melt at her melodic sound.

“Sansa, I’ll stay if you’ll have me.” He necessitated; he needed to know that there’s a chance to start over.

“I still love you, Jon.” She confesses, her gaze never straying from him. She’s getting more open with him. There wasn’t any hesitance in her voice. It was firm and soft at the same time.

He releases the grip to wound his arms on her waist and brought her closer. Their foreheads stuck together and their noses nearly brushed against each other. From this closeness, he could see the tiny perfections that ran along her face. The thick lashes that flutter on her round cheeks, the dip of her nose bridge, the soft lips like petals, and the blue in her eyes are summer skies that makes one feel immortal and the day will never end. “I’m so in love with you, Sans. Please, can we start over?” He pleads and cups one of her cheeks.

She leans on his palm. “Yes.” She agrees then stands up and tugs his hand. “Let’s go to sleep.” She says and leads him to the bedroom.


	4. Love Letter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please know this fic is a subtle "this is how you raise awareness about mental health" to 13 readons why

_~~Dear Sansa,~~ _

_~~Dearest love,~~ _

_My dearest angel,_

_It has been a wonderful four years since we got back together. I admit it wasn’t “officially” us when I slept in your apartment in that faithful night but darling, I’ve been yours since college. If we are to follow this logic my, you have my heart for almost a decade; it feels longer than that, stretching into our past lives. (Margaery lent me that ‘past life’ line, bless her. And yes, I bribed her with slices of cheesecakes so she can help me with this letter. You'll know why I needed the reincarnation of Cupid on my side.)_

 

_A lot has happened in these blissful years. Yes, we both were tormented with demons and dark tar in our blood but we also love. We have each other and gods Sansa, why did I ever breakup with you in the first place? You should’ve chained me to our bed. (Oh we did and you definitely enjoyed that!) We grew into this relationship, got to know more of ourselves and of each other. It's a prevalent occurrence when I find some new thing about you and it only makes the "Why I Love Sansa Too Much" predictably longer._

 

_At first you couldn't, wouldn't comprehend how profound my feelings are because you had doubts and later on, it grew darker into depression. I wouldn't dare say my love healed you. No, mental illness couldn't be eradicated with a lover's caress, the imbalanced chemicals in your brain don't care about me. I'd say my support and your iron will in wanting to be better are what inspired you to seek constant help, to ask my assistance about your medications. Nothing is ever really sure even with all these pills and a professional's help. I'd hold you in my arms, rivers soaking my shirt but that only makes me hold you tighter. Sometimes, emotional motivation is just as important as clinical and medical aids. You must know by now that I will always be with you. No man, woman, or even the gods can't take this away from me. They can't ever remove me from your side, where I belong, where I want to be for the rest of our lives._

 

_(Fuck, my hand is trembling. I'm so nervous right now)_

 

_I found out, among many things like how you love making horrible healthy shakes for me intentionally, is how I’ve rediscovered the meaning of love._

 

_It isn’t found in the grandeur of declarations, out in the public where a crowd would video it and later post it on social media. It isn’t the truck loads of roses, expensive trips around the globe, or you both dine in ultra-exclusive restaurants. No, love comes in different shades. For instance, the times you wear that cream skirt that I accidentally tainted and is now a blaring cotton candy pink. You smile fondly, with the secret in your eyes. When I sit through rom com marathons with you, but I do genuinely enjoy our Disney marathons. I kiss your forehead each time you cry while you watch the Notebook. I pretend to not cry but you already know and tease me for it. Most of all, when we don’t do anything, we just sit in the same room, heads bent down for work but comfort is still felt because your presence alone radiates love for me._

 

_Anyways, by the time you’re reading this, you came home to our cozy apartment, bone tired from paper work and handling clients and whatever else you lawyers do. The living room is now bathed in light and you notice the pink petal roses on the floor, snaking from the coffee table we argued over for half a minute and into the kitchen. You should follow it because my efforts in rearranging it should have a medal. Ghost kept on nipping and chewing on the petals that I had no choice but to lock him in our bedroom. But oh, he’s out now._

 

_In the kitchen, you’ll see the roast chicken with lemon seasoning and a light salad, arranged on the table. Candles flanked at the sides of the crystal vase boasting of four roses. And, hopefully, your husband is in the very room as you._

 

“Sansa.” Jon says aloud, piercing into Sansa’s concentration. He’s bent on one knee, holding up a small velvet box, inside of it, is a princess cut ring, its diamonds winking with the candlelight. “Will you marry me?”

 

She frantically nods. “Jon, _yes!”_


End file.
